


taken quietly on your own

by cupcakentea



Series: The Unholy Trinity [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, M/M, Monsters, high school age
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:35:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27269581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cupcakentea/pseuds/cupcakentea
Summary: He tries again, distracted by a notification chiming from his phone. The branches of the plug don't catch on the socket, don't glide on the hard plastic of its outside either. They're just… stopped.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Series: The Unholy Trinity [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1991371
Comments: 12
Kudos: 21
Collections: 1D Trick Or Treat Fest 2020





	taken quietly on your own

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Hello! It's been a while!  
> This fic was written as part of the 1D Trick or Treat Fest - all ficlets are 666 words long. Be sure to check out the rest of the collection!  
> Inspiration is from this [post](https://homosociallyyours.tumblr.com/post/633115553970749440/fairykukla-wellthatsjustamess-its-the-only) so I'm very much dedicating it to the amazing [homosociallyyours](http://archiveofourown.org/users/homosociallyyours)!  
> Thank you to the wonderful [bananamission](http://archiveofourown.org/users/bananamission) for proofreading this baby.
> 
> **As always, I do not allow translations or reposts of my works to this or any other website.**

When Harry climbs up the stairs to his bedroom, his feet are heavy on the steps, prompting a loud "SHUT UP" from Gemma as he passes her door. As any 16-year-old would, he just stomps harder on the way to his own. The door clicks open as she slams hers close. He lets out a long-suffering sigh, backpack sliding along his arm to the ground with a thud. He feels like joining it, but the bed seems much more comfortable.  
  
His evening is blessedly free, homework dealt with earlier thanks to Niall, and he intends to make the most of it by binging shows on Netflix and not have to think at all. Maybe write something in his journal or try to choose what he's dressing up as on Halloween. But otherwise, he wants his head as empty as can be so the migraine that plagued him all morning has no mind to return.  
  
He lets himself fall on the bed, back welcomed by the softness of the knitted afghan he lays down there every morning. His fingers twist into a stitch, then a second one, playing with the soft wool for a few seconds. He forgot to take his computer, sitting right there on his desk, on his way. So close yet so far.   
He stands back up with a stretched out grunt, grabs his laptop quickly before landing back on the mattress, worming his way to the headrest to finally sit against it.  
  
He turns it on. No battery.  
Harry is not above yelling in frustration. He looks around the room, spotting his charger right by his side on the nightstand. He's so relieved he could cry.  
  
Reaching out, he plugs it into the uncooperative laptop before twisting to the side, trying to plug it into the outlet blindly. There's resistance. He shifts the chord, tries again. Meets solid. He huffs.  
Peering down, there's nothing there. After spending all of his life in this room, he ought to evaluate that distance better.  
  
He tries again, distracted by a notification chiming from his phone. The branches of the plug don't catch on the socket, don't glide on the hard plastic of its outside either. They're just… stopped.  
  
This time, Harry closes his eyes, a knot of nervousness forming inside his guts. He thinks he knows what he'll find looking down.  
  
There's a hand, black as soot, edges blurred out with a fuzziness that Harry tries to blink away. Despite his attempts, it remains.  
The plug of his charger feels heavy in his sweaty palms.  
  
"I'm bored," rasps out a voice that intensifies the clamminess, getting Harry's heart to beat at double speed.  
  
"And this is what you pick for entertainment," he asks, already moving his body to have its upper half hanging from the edge of the bed.  
  
He always needs a few seconds to adjust to the darkness. The sliver of space under his bed has disappeared, taking forgotten socks and lint with it, only to be replaced by pitch black. The hand is gone, retreated.  
  
Two eyes blink.  
  
"Well, it got your attention, didn't it," the dark quips back.  
"You know, calling my name or just saying you're here would work just as well," Harry says, feeling a slight blush rising in his cheeks, heating the skin.  
  
The hand is back, this time with its sister. They cup Harry's face tenderly, feeling as warm and real as any other flesh.  
"Now, that wouldn't be as much fun, would it ?"  
  
Harry smiles, dimple appearing and just as quickly probed by an inquisitive finger.  
"Wanna watch some Netflix with me? You can pick," Harry says.  
"Okay."  
  
Harry settles back on the bed, watching as Louis slinks out of under the bed, fuzziness and black seeping out of him as he slowly shapes his body.  
"Can't wait for Halloween," he says, mind already whirring with places they could go, hand in hand.  
  
Louis answers with a grin slightly too big, teeth sharp and white.  
"Me too."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you liked it, please consider leaving kudos, commenting and/or [reblogging the tumblr post](https://cupcakentea.tumblr.com/post/633418243448717312/taken-quietly-on-your-own-666-by-cupcakentea-he).
> 
> Title from this Welcome To Night Vale quote :  
> “There is nothing more lonely than an action taken quietly on your own, and nothing more comforting than doing that same quiet action in parallel with fellow humans doing the same action, everyone alone next to each other.”


End file.
